


Breaking Free

by Anonymous



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Angst, Celeste Gives Her Lots Of Love, F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending, I'm trash for this ship, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Kyoko Deserves Lots Of Love, Makoto Is A Good Friend, Unnamed Terrible Husband
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 23:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15423894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: There were always choices in life that seemed irreversible for some reason or another. One of those choices was Kyoko's decision to follow her family's wishes and marry a man she didn't love. If she tried to get out of it—run away, file for divorce, anything—she would be disowned, her assets and connections stripped. She'd be unemployed and publicly disgraced with nothing at all left to her name.Her only reprieves came whenever a bouquet appeared in her car's glovebox with when and where to meet: those precious times when she managed to escape for just a little while and be with the woman who helped her forget the pain. She wanted those days to last forever.Maybe choosing to be happy would be worth the cost.





	Breaking Free

**Author's Note:**

> The fandom needs more Celegiri.
> 
> Hi, brief intro! Since it's my first work under this pseud and all, despite me leaving some anon reviews under this name. ^_^; Umm anyhow, I've watched a playthrough of Trigger Happy Havoc and am working on playing it myself (I'm procrastinating the third trial because Celeste is my favorite), which will be followed by playing Goodbye Despair, which will be followed by blah blah so on and so forth watching/reading/playing official things whenever the stars of money and time align to allow it.
> 
> But yeah, Celegiri is OTP. I have other ships that may show up in potential future works, but Celegiri will probably always be center stage. 
> 
> Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this fic!

The first thing Kyoko Kirigiri did when she got in her car to drive to work was open her glovebox.

It was without exception. She’d use her car's remote start on the walk down the driveway, slip in, shut the door, and open the compartment. Usually there was nothing out of the ordinary, but sometimes she’d look in and see a bundle of _Heuchera cylindrica_ lying inside it, a gift from the person who had Kyoko’s “lost” physical car key. A gift, and more importantly, a promise.

Being greeted by that promise on this Friday morning immediately chased all the negativity from her mind.

_Nine stalks. Three ribbons. Meet at nine o'clock, stay for three days._ Kyoko's heart started racing; she'd be away for a whole weekend. She carefully picked up the blank white card lying just beneath the bouquet, pinching it between her fingers by its edges so she wouldn't smudge the surface of it. She held it to the heating vent of her car and turned the temperature up, ignoring that it was summer and she was already sweating. The ink slowly materialized, activated by the heat. _Parking garage by the movie theater, 7th level._

Kyoko shut it all in the glovebox again, switched the heat to air conditioning, and leaned back against the seat of her car, letting herself smile just a bit. She'd have a full weekend of freedom.

_A full weekend to be myself._

* * *

"Well someone's happy today, huh?" Makoto's voice drew Kyoko's eyes across the few meters between their desks. She raised an eyebrow and he rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, Kyoko, I'm not a rookie anymore! Don't look so surprised that I noticed!" he complained, a slight whine in his tone. One corner of her mouth twitched up in a smirk.

"I'm sorry. It's just hard to forget the time you didn't see the murder weapon half-buried in a potted plant despite its entire handle sticking out," she reminded him.

"You're never going to let me live that down..." he groaned. She shook her head in confirmation of his guess, her smirk widening. "Really though, you were _humming_ when you walked in this morning, and you’ve been putting purple Post-It notes on your computer instead of yellow. What's going on that made you so happy?"

Kyoko didn't answer, so her partner walked over, planted his hands on her desk, and leaned closer so they wouldn't be overheard by casual ears. She looked up into his knowing eyes.

"Let me guess...I'm going to have to lie to the chief and say we're going on a stakeout so you have an alibi while you see _her_ ," he said. Neither of them uttered the name of the woman Kyoko was having an affair with, was in love with. It was a rule they'd made for safety's sake. If there was any chance someone connected to the Kirigiri family could overhear, none of Kyoko’s friends said that name.

"Yes," Kyoko confirmed. "For the whole weekend."

"Kyoko, you don't have to live like this. If you leave your piece of crap husband, you have people who will be happy to help you. You have friends, and we don't like to see you miserable. Me, Sayaka, Hina, Mukuro, Chihiro, Taka…everyone supports you, and everyone will be there for you if you get out of that marriage. Especially _her_."

"I know..." she sighed, feeling a shadow of tiredness flicker across her eyes.

"Then _please_ , get a divorce already. _She_ would be thrilled if you do. A night here and a weekend there aren't enough for either of you to be really happy," Makoto pleaded. “All your friends want you to get a divorce too. We want you to be happy.”

"I know," Kyoko repeated. "I'll think about it."

"That's a no," Makoto accused bluntly before his tone softened. "I know you're scared. Any sane person in your situation would be. But there are a lot of people who love you, y'know? So just...forget your blood family. You'll be fine without them. You have friends. You have _her_."

"I don't want to talk about this. Okay? Just drop it," Kyoko ordered, looking away.

"Fine." He straightened. "But remember that what you're doing doesn't just affect you."

"I know," Kyoko said once more, her voice soft and sad as she remembered the melancholy of being dropped off at her car, watching her lover's car vanish for who-knew-how-long, seeing normally vibrant red eyes dull with the weight of indefinite loneliness when they opened after the goodbye kiss.

"Then do something about it." Makoto walked back to his desk and sat down, shooting a disapproving frown at her before he returned to his paperwork.

Kyoko closed her eyes, images flashing behind her eyelids. She saw herself happy, drinking connoisseur-approved coffee instead of that swill her husband forced her to buy, having conversations that were mentally stimulating every day, sleeping in impossibly soft black sheets with warm arms around her...

She saw herself waking up with Celeste in the bed with her and sharing a good-morning kiss that actually meant something, and she smiled until she opened her eyes and the fantasy vanished into reality. She buried herself in her work.

_I can have that. I know I can. The cost is impossible to bear, but I'm more tempted than I've ever been._

The card and bouquet from Celeste were still in her glovebox. Kyoko wished she didn't have to burn them to destroy the evidence of her infidelity. She wished it was nine o'clock. She wished for the strength to sacrifice stability and chase happiness instead.

She put another purple Post-It note on her computer.

* * *

“You’re late.”

Kyoko rolled her eyes as she shut the door of the unbelievably expensive black car. Celeste’s voice was crisp and her eyes were accusing, but Kyoko saw straight through that to the strange softness that only appeared when they were alone.

“I’m three minutes late. It’s not a big deal.”

“Every minute counts, Kyoko,” was Celeste’s response.

“I know,” Kyoko sighed, leaning over to kiss her cheek in apology before settling back into the passenger’s seat to pull her seatbelt securely over her body, making absolutely sure it was fastened properly. She loved Celeste, she really did, but she hated her driving. The gambler didn’t understand that a rolling stop was illegal, that speed limits were important even if there were no law enforcement officials or cameras around, that racing to beat cross-traffic during a red light was dangerous, or that relying on luck instead of mirrors or her car’s camera when backing up was a terrible idea.

“There’s a casino about two and a half hours away that’s having its grand opening this weekend,” Celeste said. “I reserved its penthouse suite until Sunday afternoon.”

“In other words, you’re going to christen this new casino by robbing its first patrons blind,” Kyoko summarized.

“If they don’t know how to gamble adequately, they shouldn’t be at a casino anyhow,” Celeste replied flippantly, shrugging. She put her car in reverse and Kyoko grimaced. “Oh stop it, I’ve never miscalculated before.”

“I really need to find out who gave you your driver’s license and end their career,” Kyoko grumbled when her lover took every corner down the parking garage far too fast.

“So you say every time you get in my car, yet you’ve never looked into it,” Celeste teased, a smirk playing across her lips. Kyoko didn’t dignify that with a response. “When we get there, I'll show you what you'll be wearing tomorrow.”

“What did you buy, Celeste?” Kyoko was half-intrigued and half-wary. Celeste sighed exaggeratedly.

“You don’t trust me to pick out decent clothes for you? I’m hurt, Kyoko.”

“I still haven’t forgiven you for that incident three months ago.”

“In my defense, it was a reputable brand and I had a very intense conversation with the CEO of the manufacturer afterward. Besides…I believe my apology that night was thoroughly satisfying.”

“I make no promises about wearing whatever you bought,” Kyoko insisted.

“Oh fine. But I really do think you’ll like my choices.”

The pair settled into a routine so natural that it felt like they did it every day. Kyoko flipped through the radio stations to distract herself from Celeste’s terrible driving, Celeste tried to check her Instagram (she had several million followers because of the Gothic Lolita clothes she made) so Kyoko confiscated her phone, and they eventually stopped at a drive-through because Celeste refused to believe Kyoko wasn’t hungry when her stomach growled every thirty seconds.

“Spill anything in my car and I’ll fine you,” Celeste threatened as she handed the detective a bag with a parfait, two blueberry bagels, a plastic knife and spoon, and a few packets of cream cheese.

“I didn’t need food, you know,” Kyoko informed her. Celeste shot her a disdainful look at the blatant lie and slipped the large strawberry milkshake she’d ordered for them to share into a cupholder. “But thank you,” Kyoko added.

“Well, someone has to look out for you, and that bastard you’re married to certainly won’t do it,” Celeste replied, her grip on the steering wheel tightening almost imperceptibly. Kyoko stared out the window. “Can you plug in my phone and play music from it? These stations are all below my standards.”

“Sure, princess,” Kyoko drawled, smirking at her. Celeste huffed indignantly, her cheeks flushing light red. The change of subject was smooth and Kyoko was grateful for it because it meant she could eat without feeling nauseous.

Five minutes later, the food and milkshake were completely gone. Kyoko felt content. Relaxed. She figured she may as well take advantage of it.

“Do you mind if I get some sleep on the way? I doubt I’ll get much tonight.”

“Of course,” Celeste acknowledged with a smile, not denying Kyoko’s assumption. “Hold on, I put a pillow back here somewhere…” While driving down the highway, she actually _turned_ to look in the backseat. Kyoko’s chest tightened with fear.

“I’ll look for it—you just drive!” she said sharply. Celeste blinked innocently at her before turning back to the road and Kyoko twisted to peer into the backseat. She spotted the pillow and reached it with ease (which Celeste wouldn’t have been able to do from the driver’s seat), as well as a blanket folded up beside it. Celeste kept the temperature fairly low in her car, and while it was comfortable, Kyoko slept best if she was warmer.

“You’re cute when you sleep, you know,” Celeste commented absentmindedly, making Kyoko blush. “You look peaceful and innocent. It’s adorable.”

“Um…thanks…?” Kyoko wasn’t quite sure how to respond and Celeste chuckled. The detective arranged the pillow as comfortably as she could and tucked the blanket around herself, closing her eyes. “Wake me up when we get there.”

“Mmhm. Sweet dreams.”

Despite Celeste's terrible, awful, unbearable driving, Kyoko was always able to fall asleep when she wanted to whenever she was with the raven-haired woman. People often wondered why she seemed so well-rested after a "stakeout" when almost anyone would be drained, and though she passed it off as being so exhausted she slept like she was in a coma when it ended, this sense of ease and comfort was the real reason. When she was with Celeste, she never had nightmares or slept restlessly.

With a light sigh, Kyoko snuggled into her pillow and drifted into dreams.

* * *

“Kyoko…time to wake up. We’re here.”

“Mmrgh…” Kyoko groaned indistinctly, more asleep than awake. She heard a sigh, then felt a light kiss on her cheek. One on her jaw followed, then a trail down her neck. They were brief, fluttering, gentle. She couldn’t fight a giggle as Celeste’s lips managed to tickle her into full wakefulness.

“Like I was saying,” Celeste pulled back, “we’re here.”

“Alright,” Kyoko acknowledged with a yawn, stretching as much as she could in the confines of the car before tossing the pillow and blanket to the backseat again. She didn’t really care about arranging them; she just wanted to get out of the car, stretch her legs, and check in to the hotel.

_Casino and hotel,_ she reminded herself that the two locations were attached. She also reminded herself that the hotel room she’d be in was the penthouse. She didn’t even want to know how many digits would be on the bill from this weekend—far more than she could ever consider affording, she was sure.

She supposed that Celeste being a gambling prodigy wasn’t all that bad. Not that she’d ever admit it out loud.

“I don’t know why you always reserve such extravagant rooms when we stay at hotels…” Kyoko commented. “It’s not like we need the space. It feels like a waste, especially when the bed doesn’t even look used because it’s so huge.”

“Is it a crime that I want to spoil you?” Celeste’s eyes sparkled playfully.

“It will be if you don’t prove it,” Kyoko challenged with a smirk. Celeste betrayed her impatience, her happiness about seeing Kyoko again, by choosing to lean over and kiss her instead of carrying on a bit more banter.

It was a slightly awkward angle, but neither woman cared. It didn’t matter that Celeste could only hold her with one arm because her other hand was planted on the center console to keep herself from falling. It didn’t matter that the muscles in Kyoko’s back ached slightly at the way she twisted to cup Celeste’s face in her hands and deepen the kiss. They didn’t care much for formalities with their time together limited by a clock that was ever ticking down to zero. In a more relaxed situation—if Kyoko wasn’t trapped in her horrible marriage—they would both be coyer, she knew. There would be more mind games. They’d be more aloof to each other, both playing hard to get in the hopes of gaining the upper hand. But they didn’t have that luxury the way things were now.

“Come on, let’s go check in,” Celeste murmured against her lips when she pulled back just enough to speak. After the brief hassle of Celeste’s seatbelt being incompatible with her skirt (“Are you okay?” “The fucking seatbelt’s jammed because the fabric caught in it, and if it rips this skirt—which I spent _weeks_ making, might I add—I will scream. Seatbelts are so damn stupid…” “Celeste, do you ever wear a seatbelt when I’m not in the car?” “Stop being a cop for two goddamn seconds and help me!”), Kyoko retrieved a familiar black and purple backpack from the trunk of Celeste’s car. It contained clothes, pajamas, and toiletries for the detective and was always at the ready in the car, just in case. Celeste pulled out her own suitcase, which seemed much too large for a weekend excursion, and locked the car before leading Kyoko into the hotel lobby.

“Good evening, ladies,” said the man at the reception desk with a smile. “Have you already reserved a room?”

“Yes,” Celeste replied. Her voice was crisp and polite, almost seeming surgical in its precision, just like it always was when she addressed strangers. Her tone became slightly more casual when speaking to friends, but she still seemed a bit distant, reserved, and aloof. Kyoko wondered how many people besides herself had seen Celeste’s fully warm and loving side.

_I have to admit, I hope it’s only me…_ she realized, fighting her blush.

“My name is Celestia Ludenberg. I reserved the penthouse suite for the weekend,” Celeste continued, producing a credit card and an ID. Kyoko knew it was her fake ID but said nothing about it. The only difference between her fake and real IDs was the fact that her real ID said “Taeko Yasuhiro” and her fake one used “Celestia Ludenberg” instead.

“Hm. And your friend?” The man looked at Kyoko, who resisted the urge to jolt and met his eyes evenly.

“What about her?” Celeste’s tone was dismissive. Kyoko wasn’t offended by that, knowing it was all an act to keep her as understated and unnoticed as possible.

“I’ll need her name too. All guests staying in the penthouse suite must be registered,” he replied. Celeste narrowed her eyes.

“No, I’m _quite_ certain I’m the only one whose name needs to be recorded,” she asserted. The man shifted uncomfortably.

“Ma’am, the rules—”

“I’m the only one whose name needs to be recorded,” Celeste cut him off with both her words and an impressive wad of cash that she pressed to his lips. “Is that understood?” She withdrew the offering. The man’s eyes were glued to it.

“Of course,” he agreed. “You’re the only one whose name we need.”

“Good boy.” Celeste tucked the wad into his shirt pocket and gave it a pat. The man typed some information on his computer, returned her credit card and ID, and handed her a key. She thanked him cordially before leading Kyoko to the elevators.

“It’s getting close to midnight,” the detective noticed the time on the clock above the middle elevator. Celeste followed her gaze.

“So it is. When we get to the room, should we just call it a night?” she offered.

“If by ‘call it a night’ you mean ‘enjoy each other’s company behind the privacy of locked doors’…yes please.”

“Good, because that is _exactly_ what I meant.” Celeste stepped into an elevator and conveniently arranged her suitcase so there was only space for one other person. Kyoko flashed an apologetic glance at the people waiting for a chance to board as the doors shut.

“You’re excited about this weekend too,” Kyoko observed. The flush rising to the gambler’s cheeks was quite telling, as was the way her right heel didn’t _tap_ but fidgeted ever so slightly.

“Well why wouldn’t I be?” Celeste didn’t bother trying to deny it. “It’s the first full weekend we’ve had together in a while, you know.”

“I’m aware,” Kyoko sighed, staring at her shoes. She kept her schedule up-to-date online, on social media so Celeste could see it without letting on that it was only for one person’s eyes. Celeste didn’t put anything about her schedule anywhere, and they didn’t dare communicate through phone, email, or prearranged meetups. The only way Celeste could tell Kyoko they had a chance to spend time together was by slipping a bouquet into her glovebox before dawn. The affair they were maintaining was hard. It strained them both, it took effort, and it hurt like hell on the rare occasions when one of them couldn’t make it (especially because it meant the other was being stood-up without warning or explanation).

The fact that they were still together after this long was proof that what they had was indeed love.

“Hey.” Celeste was standing in front of Kyoko, tilting her face up by placing one finger under her chin. “Are you going to mope, or are you going to enjoy yourself?”

Kyoko answered the soft question with a kiss, winding her fingers in Celeste’s hair to pull her closer. It didn’t take long for the gambler to take control and push her against a wall, though the kiss itself stayed chaste.

The elevator chimed as its doors parted. Celeste stepped away and Kyoko opened her eyes, trying to tame her blush. (The smirk Celeste shot her wasn’t helpful.) The two of them stepped off the elevator and Celeste slipped her key into the card reader set into the door of the only hotel room on the floor. It unlocked with a click and a green flash.

“ _Apr_ _és toi_ ,” Celeste said, opening the door and gesturing for Kyoko to go first. She narrowed her eyes at her lover, suspicious. Celeste knew Kyoko’s French vocabulary held about five words at best, and she often took advantage of that to make lewd comments she wouldn't dare utter in a language the detective understood.

_Well…she_ sounds _polite, at least, so I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt,_ she determined, walking into the penthouse. Celeste followed her in and shut the door. While Kyoko took in her surroundings, Celeste went to the bed and hefted her suitcase, dropping it on the mattress with a slight grunt of effort. She’d never do any sort of manual labor unless it was the only way to spare Kyoko from it.

Celeste hadn’t forgotten the time Kyoko tried to carry a heavy duffel bag while hiding a fractured ankle and ended up taking a trip to a hospital far enough away that her family wouldn’t catch wind of it. Or maybe when Kyoko’s sprained wrist failed her and she couldn’t use that hand for the rest of the night. It was hard to say how many of the numerous incidents Celeste remembered and how many she’d forgotten, but she was done taking chances with the amethyst-eyed woman’s health. Kyoko felt a harsh tug in her chest, bittersweet emotions welling up at how much Celeste cared despite those injuries all coming from the detective’s own selfish fear of forsaking stability.

“Take a look at the clothes I brought for you to wear tomorrow,” Celeste cut into her thoughts and went to the dresser to unclip her extensions, putting them in one of the drawers. Kyoko walked over to the bed, shrugged off her backpack to set it on the floor, and unzipped the suitcase.

“Are we going somewhere tomorrow?” she asked when she saw the carefully folded lavender dress. It was long, beautiful, exquisitely crafted, and made of heavenly satin. It took a moment for Kyoko to realize Celeste had made this dress herself.

“Mmhm. We’re going to dinner at a five-star restaurant. My treat,” she confirmed. Kyoko smiled slightly. The other two outfits—for before dinner and after dinner, presumably—were stylish and probably expensive, but the dress awed her.

“The dress is gorgeous,” she commented, meeting Celeste’s eyes so her sincerity and admiration were clear. Celeste blushed lightly and smiled back.

“Well, you know…” She settled at the head of the bed, shifting so she was near the middle but not fully centered. “I’m just glad you like it.”

“It took you a long time to make, didn’t it?” Kyoko guessed knowingly. The way Celeste’s blush deepened was answer enough. “Sometimes you really do amaze me.”

“You do some pretty amazing things yourself, Miss Perfect Valentine’s Day,” Celeste replied, reminding Kyoko of the time she’d met up with Celeste on Valentine’s Day weekend and done everything the gambler wanted without a single hint being dropped.

“I suppose we both have our moments,” she agreed. There was a pause.

“By the way, there’s a hot tub on our balcony. Oh, but don’t worry—we have appropriate swimwear,” Celeste said flippantly, leaning against the stack of plush pillows that nearly obscured the headboard. Kyoko frowned and dug through the suitcase again. No swimsuits. She looked up at Celeste, who batted her eyelashes and offered her a charming smile. Kyoko caught on, blushed violently, and threw her backpack (which was too soft and light to cause injury, being filled with mostly clothes) right at the gambler’s perfect face. Celeste easily batted it away, her reflexes too swift for such a clumsy projectile to bypass.

“If that’s the case, we’re not playing strip poker this time,” Kyoko declared firmly. Celeste sighed, the breathy sound exaggeratedly disappointed.

“I suppose that is the price of enjoying a private balcony to the fullest,” she conceded.

“You know you’re ridiculous, right?” Kyoko raised an eyebrow. Celeste held out her arms and the detective crawled over to cuddle against her, feeling her surprisingly strong lover pull her in close.

“So I’ve been told,” she murmured into Kyoko’s hair, then kissed her cheek.

“Celeste…” Kyoko turned her head and caught raspberry-glossed lips in a kiss, much deeper than she had in the elevator.

“Yeah?” Celeste asked breathlessly, pulling back. In one smooth motion, Kyoko shifted to plant one knee on each side of Celeste’s thighs, effectively keeping her trapped.

“I’m done holding back.”

“Oh, are you…?” Celeste’s smirk was coy and her voice dropped to a sultry purr. “Good, because so am I.”

They didn’t bother with finesse. They had Saturday night for finesse; tonight was all about making up for lost time. But as soon as their clothes were haphazardly scattered, which meant at least half an hour of Celeste complaining about wrinkles in the morning, Kyoko found herself on her back and under scrutiny without contact. No matter how impatient or desperate she was, Celeste wouldn’t touch her until they got one matter out of the way.

 “Where does it hurt?” Celeste asked, just like she always did.

“I’m fine,” Kyoko replied, the same lie she told every time. Celeste never failed to see through it, but Kyoko still tried.

“Sure you are,” the gambler sighed. Delicate fingers traced experimental patterns over Kyoko’s body, the sharp mind behind them noting each wince and flinch regardless of how slight. As usual, she found all of her bruises, no matter how well-hidden they were. “You have a lot tonight,” she noticed, brushing a soft kiss against the crook of her neck.

“Don’t let that stop you,” Kyoko urged. Celeste’s eyes bore a hint of sorrow as she tucked a lock of hair behind the detective’s ear. She dipped her head and trailed her lips down Kyoko’s collarbone, skipping the hand-shaped bruise that was invisible to the eye but that she had mapped out and committed to memory just by judging how her lover had reacted to her touch.

“I never do.”

* * *

Kyoko wished the weekend would never end. Mornings of waking up tangled in the sheets with Celeste’s arm draped over her waist and her breath ghosting over the back of her neck, pretending to be asleep until Celeste grumbled and crawled over her to kiss her good morning, hiding her laughter at how dramatic Celeste was over a couple easily fixed wrinkles in her precious Gothic Lolita ensembles, and eating breakfast together. Shopping, cuddling up while watching TV, going out to dinner together. Watching Celeste earn a killing by beating out dirty and honest gamblers alike without cheating even slightly. Just looking at her, listening to her voice, basking in her warmth and the aroma of roses. She wanted it to last forever.

But it couldn’t.

On Sunday evening, Celeste was driving (if it could be called that) up to the seventh level of the parking garage where this weekend had started. Her knuckles were a bit pale; her grip on the steering wheel was controlled enough that they weren’t white, but not fully restrained. She was just as upset about this inevitable moment as Kyoko.

_I hate this. I hate living like this. I hate making her live like this._

Kyoko’s thoughts raced on repeat. Celeste parked her car but kept it running. Kyoko unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned across the center console to kiss Celeste one last time before she had to return to her painful house, her painful marriage.

“I love you,” she sighed softly when she pulled back. Celeste’s smile was forced. Her eyes had turned dull.

“I love you too,” she replied. Kyoko was about to open the car door and step out when she found herself frozen. This wasn’t going to work. She couldn’t take it. She had to make a choice before she went insane.

_Makoto was right._

"Celeste..." Kyoko’s hand slipped from the door handle as she turned back to her lover.

"Hm?" The gambler smiled slightly, her eyes bright again (albeit still duller than usual) at the fact that their parting was being delayed. Kyoko stared into those entrancing red orbs, drawing strength from their warmth.

"I..." She took a deep breath, pulled her courage together. "I can't keep doing this."

"Is that so?" Celeste's poker face was usually impenetrable, but even hers couldn’t completely hide such severe displeasure. Her lips pursed and her eyes darkened, narrowing.

_She thinks I'm breaking up with her,_ Kyoko realized with a harsh jolt.

"It is." She leaned across the center console and pressed a kiss to Celeste's lips, just briefly. When she pulled back, she smiled despite her fear. "So I've decided to get a divorce."

Celeste's eyes widened. Her face flushed slightly. Kyoko didn't tease her; she knew how unexpected it was for her to give up everything for the raven-haired woman.

"Are you sure?" Celeste murmured.

"I'm sure. I love you, Taeko Yasuhiro..." Kyoko spoke her real name gently, tenderly. Celeste's blush deepened and she muttered an indistinct complaint about Kyoko abusing her dignity. "As long as you're fine with me living with you, I'll leave him."

"Of course I'm fine with that!" Celeste huffed grumpily. "I love you too, you know."

"I do know." Kyoko lightly bumped their noses together. "When can I move in?"

"How about tomorrow?" Celeste suggested.

"Impatient much?" Kyoko teased, cutting off Celeste's indignant denial attempt with a kiss. "I'll start the divorce process first thing in the morning," she promised.

"Mind if I show up at your door tomorrow, then?" Celeste requested with a smirk.

"Five o'clock. So bring five stalks with you."

"And how many ribbons do I tie them with?"

"None. Just use something metal, like one of those fancy rings you put on your cloth napkins," Kyoko replied.

"Alright. I won't be late," Celeste promised.

“Every minute counts when you’re making up for lost time,” Kyoko commented.

“Mmhm. I’ll see you tomorrow, Kyoko.” Celeste smiled. Kyoko leaned over to kiss her one more time.

“See you tomorrow.”

* * *

For the first time, Kyoko smiled as she drove home. She caught herself humming and remembered all the purple Post-It notes on her computer at work. She was about to lose everything but she was happier than she'd been in years. Why?

Then she realized she wasn't losing everything. She'd still have her friends, she'd still have exemplary detective skills that would make it easy to work as a PI after her family kicked her off the police force, and most importantly, she'd still—no, she'd _finally_ have Celeste. She wasn't losing anything at all; she was gaining everything.

_Why didn't I realize that sooner?_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Heuchera cylindrica, AKA poker alumroot: a plant with leathery heart-shaped leaf blades clustered at the base of long stalks with greenish-white flowers clustered among the upper part; western North America
> 
> I found out the plant existed while trolling around a dictionary, and that's what inspired the whole oneshot. I hope this spur of the moment idea was entertaining! Reviews are very much appreciated; I'd love to hear your honest thoughts! Thanks for reading!


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